Disclaimer: all belongs to Tolkien but the OC's =)

Chapter 7- Visions

It was dawn.

The camp had quickly been picked up and Rhunir's injury had been checked and redressed. With him laid out on the makeshift sled, still unconscious, and Evard hovering anxiously about, they set out up the remainder of the trail in single file, breathlessly counting the seconds until they reached the pass.

The early morning was frosty cold, savage blasts of wind and snow daring them to journey on, as they trekked undauntedly up the last slope of Kalvahkari mountain.

Snow whirling in his face, the wind fiercely pulling his black hair and yanking at his cloak, Aelorothi looked back one last time upon the wild lands behind them, wishing his homeland farewell. This was the last time he would ever see it again. His face alight with the excitement of adventure and grim with mighty determination, he turned and quickly followed the others through the pass, through the blizzard of snow, into the great white unknown world beyond, to his life, to his death, to his destiny, to his fate- carefully wrought in great golden wheel of Time.

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Blood.

That was the first thing he saw when the vision came- blood everywhere.

The crimson and black liquid splattered in the snow, thicker than raindrops, all over the ground. Snapped and broken arrows and shredded pieces of black cloth lay where they had been dropped, and a forgotten bow, once the treasured weapon of some noble elven-warrior, lay half buried in the snow. Half-burnt wood, a pot of someone's half-cooked stew spilled over in the snow, a bloodstained green cloak abandoned beside the stump across the clearing…

And that was it.

The next thing that appeared was a massive black stone fortress, set beneath towering mountains on the edge of a snow-covered plain. The vision zoomed in, passing warriors and guards, and rested on a massive banner that hung over the main gates.

It was a scarlet banner, bearing the coat-of-arms of the castle's owner- a skull just situated above a pair of curved daggers, crossed over each other, engraved onto the red banner in black.

The coat-of-arms and the black castle slowly vanished, and the viewer frowned in confusion, wondering why his vision had shown him this fortress and that disturbing banner, when suddenly another scene overtook him.

A human girl's face appeared..

A weeping girl in a fierce snow-storm,young and alone.

Her pale face was streaked and stained with dirt and blood, cuts riddling her cheeks. Tears streamed down her face as she stumbled blindly through the snow.

She fell onto her hands and knees, remaining there so long that the viewer began to worry she had given in to her death, before she finally rose again and pushed onwards. Her brilliant forest-green eyes were filled with pain and anguish, pure determination the only thing keeping her on her feet.

Then the scene was gone as quickly as it had come, and before the viewer could move, another approached.

A young elf in a dark, cold room hung from heavy iron chains clapped around his wrists, his feet just touching the stone floor. A tangled mess of golden-blonde hair tumbled over his face, concealing it from view. He just hung there limply in the dark stone room, as if he were clinging to the last shred of hope.

After a moment, he looked up and the blonde hair fell away from his face to reveal sharp, noble features and beautiful, proud gray-blue eyes which had once been so full of life. The viewer's heart leapt with surprise and alarm as he immediately recognised the elf's face.

It was King Thranduil's oldest son, the Crown Prince of Mirkwood.

Then suddenly the vision ended, and the snowy clearing, the girl with the green eyes and the elf-prince were gone, leaving the viewer sitting dumbstruck in his chair, more anxious and troubled than he had been in a very long time.

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I know this was really short, but I hope you still enjoyed it. My next chapter will probably be much longer- provided I get a few reviews :)

Thanks for reading!!!

Aërlinwë Greenleaf